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What Might Have Been

A poem from last year I never posted...maybe because I'm not sure I like it...
I see you alone at the end of the bar,
I give you a glance, a signal from afar.
Our glances linger as you give me the eye,
The excitement is building, for one middle age guy,
The tension is growing from your seductive glance,
My arousal is increasing, I feel it in my pants.
Your beauty is awesome, for a taste some would die,
But I know it is wrong, to go over and say 'hi'.
I sit there and ponder as I play with my drink,
Should I or shouldn't I, I am starting to think.
Just when I am about to go over and tell you you're so fine,
My wife returns from the bathroom and takes the seat next to mine.
She stares me down like she knows my every thought,
I feel like a kid who was naughty and caught.
I'm thinking of later, thoughts running through my head,
I'll be sleeping on the sofa, you comfortable in our bed.
Your punishment is severe, though fair and just,
I mentally violated our marital trust.
The long ride home had an unsettling quiet,
I'd rather be in the middle of a heated riot.
When we get back I say sorry and she gives me a hug,
I'm hoping to sweep this whole thing, under the rug.
I get in my car and go out for a spin,
Still thinking about, what might have been.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © All stories, poems and plays copyright Alan W. Jankowski.

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